They're Quite The Pair
by Farewells
Summary: A collection of my Snowbarry drabbles: Inspirations from many different mediums. -04- / Oranges & Mint / : In which they meet under a mistletoe. [Prompt me!]
1. Yellow

**A/n:** I have too many Snowbarry stories and not the time to finish any, so one of my readers suggested that instead of continuously pumping out newer stories, I should take my ideas and publish them as a bunch of drabbles instead. I guess this is where they'll all be!

 **Summary:** In which Barry Allen is a famous singer-songwriter and has a song dedicated to Caitlin without anyone knowing so. The two of them were at the karaoke bar when he decides to give the entire bar an impromptu performance.

I've chosen Coldplay's **Yellow** , because not only do the lyrics fit what I'm trying to accomplish in this story, but it's also one of my favorite songs.

Enjoy! (and leave your thoughts!)

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 **1.) Yellow**

 _Look at the stars_

 _Look how they shine for you_

There was something hauntingly mellow in his mellifluent tone, a drizzling gentleness that caught the attention of every single patron in the karaoke bar. The lights dimmed along the first verse, the remaining luminescence of a single spotlight casted over Barry Allen, the pale illumination matching the lightness of his voice, the soft rendering of each note.

 _And everything you do_

 _Yeah, they were all yellow._

Caitlin Snow sat near the bar, equally enthralled by the alluring croon of his voice. Like the dozens of others in this tiny karaoke bar, she was transfixed, mesmerized by his impromptu performance. The room was once engulfed in a chaotic scrambling of conversation and clinking drinks, but as Barry Allen's voice descended upon the rowdy crowd, there was an immediate effect, a quieting wave that quickly enveloped the entire crowd, leaving behind nothing but the light calmness of his voice.

 _I came along_

 _I wrote a song for you_

The song was a special track on his newest album, a last minute addition that vastly contrasted the more upbeat and sanguine vocals of his other songs. ' _Yellow_ ' was more melancholic, a sorrowful tune at a deliberately unhurried pace. During one of his recent interviews, he was quoted saying that the song was written for a special someone in his life, a person who owned the entirety of his heart without knowing so.

 _And all the things you do_

 _And it was called yellow_

 _So then I took my turn_

He sang with his eyes closed, the scrolling karaoke captions unneeded. She noticed the slight curling of his lips, the subconscious tug of an inevitable smile each time he muttered the word ' _yellow_ '. Everyone in the room felt his weighted heart, squashed by unspoken emotions, turned into a beautiful melody; it was transcending, and the crowd relished in its brilliance.

 _Oh what a thing to have done_

 _And it was all yellow_

 _Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones_

 _Turn into something beautiful_

She couldn't tear her eyes away from him and neither could anyone else in the crowd; how could they possibly deny losing themselves to his euphonic voice; the rawness, the quavering of the lyrics that meant so much. Her heart ached for him, his performance the cause of such a beautiful desolation.

 _Do you know?_

 _You know I love you so_

 _You know I love you so_

Does the person know? She wonders, of Barry Allen's heart, of the reason for his song, the fullness of each word. It was no longer just a simply melody, but an intimate confession of his heart, an acknowledgement for the flickering embers that just refused to die.

 _I swam across_

 _I jumped across for you_

 _Oh what a thing to do_

 _'Cos you were all yellow_

She knew he would, Barry Allen was always that sort of person. An honest bundle of loyalty and love, a full-hearted being that would do anything for his friends. And for someone he loved, she could only imagine, to the ends of all worlds, there was nothing that could stop Barry Allen.

 _I drew a line_

 _I drew a line for you_

 _Oh what a thing to do_

 _And it was all yellow_

His voice was a comforting warmness, a bewitching woe that blanketed the entire crowd, a charming seduction that left none unbeguiled by the pureness of his voice, the enrapturement of his song. An intoxicating performance, and none could refuse falling drunk in the embrace of his heartfelt melody, the sincerity of each sung word.

 _And your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones_

 _Turn into something beautiful_

Barry Allen sang to the crowd, but they were only passengers on board his melodic confession, not the actual yearnings of his heart. He had sang the same song in studios, in live performances; he sang in sold-out stadiums and even karaoke bars, but there was always a certain solemnness in his performance, the renditions each done with the closure of his eyes.

To him, the song was an intimate performance. He drowned out the roar of the crowd, the backing symphony of his band. He saw only her, the reason for his song, the person his stars shone for.

 _Do you know?_

 _For you I bleed myself dry_

 _For you I bleed myself dry_

She found herself reminiscing a day long passed, the emerging memories like insistent stars upon a darkened sky. She had worked late that night and he was there to give her a ride home; she could have taken a cab, but he insisted. The two of them stood outside of S.T.A.R. labs, soaking in the soft caress of the full moon.

She had caught him staring weirdly at her and wondered if there was something on her face; he laughed and told her otherwise.

' _Yellow_ ', he had described it. The way she shone then, her delightful features accentuated by the moon's glow, her skin lit softly by its tender embrace.

In that darkened parking lot, where only the two of them stood, it was almost as though the entire world was stilled, that the thousands of stars in the skies above were shining only for her.

That same night was also the first time he told her how beautiful she was.

 _It's true_

 _Look how they shine for you_

 _Look how they shine for you_

And upon that realization, she noticed that for the first time, he sung with his eyes open; an intensity, shrouded by gentleness, that was directed only towards her. Their gaze caught and for a moment, everything else fell into place and simply evaporated, leaving behind only the two and _her_ song.

 _Look how they shine for you_

 _Look how they shine for you_

As redness flushed to her cheeks at the ending notes of his song, Caitlin embraced the warmness inside her heart. She was glowing, a radiant flush of her skin. This time, it wasn't the fault of the stars, but of him, of Barry Allen, the man she loved with all of her heart.

Countless obstacles separated the two, but they were going to have a long conversation afterwards, and she knew deep down, that everything was going to be alright.

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	2. Rainy Days

**A/n:** Another short idea I had. I'm also taking prompts - interactions / scenes - so send them my way!

Enjoy!

 **Summary:** In which the two stumbled into Barry Allen's apartment late one night, escaping from the outside rainstorm, and finding themselves in a most intimate situation.

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 **2.) Rainy days**

The place had an inviting hum, along with the faint scent of wood and cut flowers; a pleasant welcome to the man's cosy abode, a reprieve from the ferocious outside rainstorm. His apartment was homely and warm, it was comfortably furnished and the lighting was perfect; a soft orange hue casted the room in a dim glow, it wasn't too bright, nor was it too dark.

The two drenched companions stepped hurriedly into the little apartment, the female kicking off her heels as they did so. Their belongings were quickly dumped onto the living room table; phones, wallets, keys. His jacket followed after, a wet plop as it landed. There would surely be a puddle the following morning, but the consequences escaped his mind at that current moment.

Barry Allen took a step back from his female guest, noticing her thoroughly drenched state. The dress that thinly adorned Caitlin Snow's curves now hugged them tightly to the skin; her hair in wet clumps around her shoulders; and she was shivering.

"We should get changed." That part was obvious, but he quickly came to the conclusion that she did not have an extra pair of clothing stashed at his place - there was no reason for her to. "Wait here okay?" he smiled, "I'll be back with towels and dry clothing."

"Where else could I go?" she laughed softly.

But he was already heading for his room, leaving tiny wet footprints along the way.

There came the sound of hastily opened closets soon after, followed by the return of a very shirtless Barry Allen; a pair of changed pants, and with only a single towel covering his shoulders.

Ever since leaving the West household and finding an apartment on his own, Barry Allen realized he wasn't the most organized and prepared person. He wasn't someone that would fill his closet with clean clothes the moment they came out of the dryer, preferring to leave them in a neat stack by the laundry's basket until more were required.

There remained no clothes in his closet, which explained his current toplessness. He was much drier by then, other than a headful of puffy hair, resembling the fur of a recently bathed puppy.

It wasn't the first time Caitlin was in the presence of a shirtless Barry Allen. There were the medical examinations in S.T.A.R. labs and the plenty of times they've visited the beach, but something was different this very night. Her cheeks felt warm as she came upon his approaching silhouette, and she found herself unable to divert her wandering eyes.

However, she wasn't complaining. Not at all.

He stopped in front of her, their nearing proximity causing a sudden flutter in her chest. The towel he held moved slowly in her direction, a gentle press against the side of her cheeks. Their eyes caught, and his was a soft linger, slow, steady.

She nodded, and the towel went around her cheek, underneath her chin, around her shoulders. He did so gently, allowing the towel to soak up the wetness as the soft fabric glided across her skin, coming to an eventual end around the back of her neck. Each end of the towel circled on opposite sides of her, coming to a rest near her front, held loosely in his grip.

He leaned forward, and they were suddenly all the more closer. She was aware of his body pressing lightly against hers, his warm breath a soft flush across her skin.

He started pulling on the ends of the towel, each soft tug pulling her closer in his direction.

Caitlin allowed herself to be pulled towards him, a playful smile cluttering her cheeks, one that evaporated quickly when their foreheads finally touched. They remained there for the longest time, and she was vaguely aware of the towel falling harmlessly to the ground below them.

"I've wanted…" he whispered, and she shivered at the sound of his voice, "to do this for the longest time."

"What-?"

Caitlin did not manage to complete her sentence, as the lips that previously uttered those words suddenly felt themselves pressed against another pair.

It felt tender, soft; his hands cupped the side of her cheeks, and her hands ran around his back.

They broke apart for the briefest of a second, and she found his eyes searching hers for a reason to stop. She would not grant him any, and as their lips collided once more, their bodies grew to a close huddle, like remaining fireflies, trying to keep the world from falling into darkness.

The night was theirs, and like fireflies, they were the light of each other's world.

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	3. Cuddles

**A/n:** Decided to practice writing cuddling scenes, because we all know that those are the best. Did I pass?

 **Summary:** In which Caitlin returns home after a long day at work and cuddles with Barry Allen.

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 **3.) Cuddles**

It was a long day, and while Caitlin Snow was used to working such lengthy hours, it certainly took its toll; she was exhausted, barely managing to kick off her heels as she stumbled into the tiny apartment, her belongings quickly tossed aside. It was way past midnight's bell, and by then, the average person should have already been long asleep. Her hair was messy, and she was quite sure she smelled of disinfectants and surgical garbs; she needed a shower, but her weary bones argued otherwise, shower can wait, the bed temptingly beckons.

She dragged herself tiredly across the carpeted floors, making her way into her darkened room. She did not bother with the lights, but expertly navigated herself to the bed in the dark. She flopped onto the softened fabric, feeling herself sink wonderfully into cozy cushions and plush pillows. She laid there for a few long seconds, before turning to the sleeping figure beside her. She could barely make out Barry Allen's silhouette in the moonlit room, but she knew it was him, she recognized his soft breathing, his warming presence.

She rolled closer towards him, gently lifting a prone arm and sliding beneath, pressing herself against his chest as she allowed that arm to drape over her own. She made sure there remained no space left between the both, her smaller form quickly snuggling up against his, her head fitting into the small space below his.

She pulled her hair to one side in order to avoid brushing up against his face, as her fingers ran around his waist, holding onto him like an anchor; which he was, a handsome anchor in the midst of her whirlwind life. Her legs rested next to his, their toes touching by the edge of the bed. She sighed contently, her eyes slowly flickering shut, a warm smile upon her lips.

"Mhm… you're home," his voice was soft, a gentle murmur in the moonlit room.

"Did I wake you?" she whispered, "I'm sorr-"

Before she could fully apologize, the arm around her pulled her closer towards him, his head tilting as he planted the softest of kisses upon her forehead. His body shifted a little, adjusting their positions as she soon found herself laying by his side, her head resting on his chest, his arm looping around hers.

She looked up at him, and came upon the gentlest eyes, as blue as they were green; a soft glint against the entering moonlight. He looked tired, but there was something intense in his gaze, as heartfelt as it was loving, as though if he looked away, she would be forever gone.

"I missed you," he whispered, his hand coming to a rest by the back of her head, fingers playfully entwining her brownish locks. His gaze held, and she couldn't help but look away, lest her cheeks overtaken by a flood of red.

But she knew it was already too late, even after all these years spent together, Barry Allen still had the power to turn her into a blushing schoolgirl without even a moment's notice.

"It's just been a day," she smiled.

"Even a minute is too long," his reply came instantly, as though he already knew what was on her mind.

She sighed, but it was a failed attempt at feigning frustration. Between his constant bad puns and perpetual smoothness, there really wasn't a part of Barry that she didn't love. "How are you so smooth all the time?"

She regretted asking the moment she did.

"Because of the moisturizer I use?"

She groaned.

"I could recommend it to you if you'd like, it's environmentally healthy and-"

This time it was Caitlin who shut Barry up, her hands quickly sliding up his chest, her legs crawling over his. Now she laid on top of him, loosely straddling him, their faces just inches apart. She felt his arm coming to a rest at the small of her back, the other came to a stop by the side of her face.

His palm was warm against her cheeks, and his fingers coiled a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

"How considerate," she grinned.

He pulled lightly, and she tilted forward, their lips a light touch upon the other. "You know," he whispered as they parted for the briefest of seconds, "I could," his lips pressed against hers once more, "kiss," before doing it again, "you", and again, "for the rest", another kiss, "of my," before another kiss, "life."

"I know," she leaned downwards after they parted for the final time, her head coming to a rest near the top of his chest. "I love the way you kiss me."

"I love you."

She could hear the soft thump of his heart.

"I love you too."

As she listened to the steady thump of his heart, she started giggling, for it started to beat even faster. And as the two cuddled next to the other, what they didn't know, was that their heartbeats were in sync the entire time. Between their busy working hours and frantic schedules, even the briefest of cuddles, could make them fall in love all over again.

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	4. Oranges & Mint

**A/n:** A story I've written in the past. I've decided to delete the story and re-upload the chapter here, as it's after-all, a drabble. I've edited and rewritten quite a bit of the story. So, same story, but different.

 **Summary:** In which they meet under a mistletoe.

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 **Chapter: 4**

She was glowing, an alluring vibrancy which fully captured his untearable gaze; it wasn't because of the tiny Christmas lights above, nor the adorning blue dress, elegantly and perfectly accentuating the colors of her eyes.

His breath caught, and for a single moment, Barry forgot where exactly he was.

She appeared a little lost at first, trapped in a sea of unfamiliarity, but as their gaze caught across the room, amidst the throngs of Christmas partygoers, her eyes lit up at his presence, and he was once again reminded of how beautifully they complimented her equally colored dress. Or perhaps it was the other way round, something about the woman making the dress, and not the dress making the woman. He was certain it was the former in her case – Caitlin Snow could make almost anything work.

Even in a pair of dirty laboratory garbs, she could still send his heart into flutters.

She approached, and his suit suddenly felt a lot tighter than before; an uncomfortable pressure that matched the tightness of his chest. She stopped in front of him, and he could smell her, a pleasant mix of oranges and mint, and even with all of his increased metabolism, Barry Allen found himself quickly intoxicated by her presence.

"Merry Christmas, Barry Allen."

"Merry Christmas, Caitlin Snow."

She leaned towards him, and he pulled her into a close embrace, his hands sliding behind her as he hugged her just a little longer than usual.

"Mr. Allen," she laughed softly when they parted, "I've never been greeted in such a generous manner."

"Well, Miss Snow, it's just good to see a familiar face," he chuckled, "I think Joe invited half the precinct over."

"I can tell, I thought I stepped into the wrong building at first, I was just waiting for someone to kick me out."

"I don't think anyone would kick you out in that dress."

She laughed, "Barry Allen, is that a compliment?"

"A thinly veiled compliment, if I do say so myself," he smiled, "Caitlin, you look amazing."

"You don't look too shabby yourself," she nudged him playfully on his shoulder. "Wearing a red suit to Christmas? That is either a fashion statement, or…" she leaned in closer, and his breath caught at their sudden nearness, "you're trying to subliminally let everyone know you're the Flash."

Before he could reply, Joe West dropped by the two, cheerfully pulling them both into a gigantic bear hug before going on his way.

"At least Joe seems to be having fun," Barry laughed, his goofy foster father certainly knew how to throw his Christmas parties. "Did you know that when we were younger, Joe and I used to-…"

He paused, suddenly noticing her intense stare. Her smile evaporated, and there remained only an intensity he couldn't quite understand.

He followed her gaze upwards – and came upon the mistletoe Joe must have hung while distracting them with his bear hug.

There was a slight flush across her cheeks, an adorable tint she couldn't hide, and he knew it wasn't just from Iris's alcoholic eggnogs.

"D-did you know," he stuttered, "that mistletoes are related to the-… umm, Norse mythology? It started when Loki tricked the blind dog Hodur into-"

"Barry Allen," she interrupted, and then asked, in a most curious manner, "are you going to kiss me?"

He froze.

She looked away and shyly said, "It's okay, I mean, if you and Iris are still… I would understand."

"That's not it, that's not it at all."

He took a deep breath, and before she could say anything else, he reached towards her, his hands pulling onto her own, the momentum sending her spinning towards him. Her palms ended up on his chest, and they suddenly only inches apart. She inhaled sharply, her eyes closing, and suddenly, his hands were resting warmly against her cheeks.

He pulled, and their lips came together.

It was gentle, nothing more than a simple peck; a formality, their first kiss under the mistletoe.

He wanted more, but they parted, and he was left wondering if she would object if he attempted another. His breathing quickened, and when he saw the same look in her eyes as his, Barry Allen did not hesitate the second time round.

He kissed her again, and again, and again, and this time, ardently stole her breath away.

"That was…" she whispered afterwards, her eyes happily finding his, and not quite finishing the sentence.

"Lost for words?" he smiled, "was that a compliment?"

She laughed, "A thinly veiled compliment, if I do say so myself."

And then at once, all the lights simultaneously dimmed, and a romantic tune started in the background, prompting many of the party goers to find a partner and sway to the music.

"Caitlin Snow," he turned towards her, "may I have the dance?"

"Well, Barry Allen," she smiled, "I thought you would never ask."

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